


Pretending For You

by DirtyBrian



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: Dalek, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyBrian/pseuds/DirtyBrian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Van Statten's museum, the Doctor and Rose desperately pretend that they're all right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretending For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perfectlyrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/gifts).



She pretends she’s not shocked when she sees him- the bloodstained flannel clutched in his hand so hard his knuckles are white, the strain in his frame from the obvious pain he’s in. She pretends, for him, that her hands aren’t shaking as she helps him clean and dress his wounds, her fingertips trailing across the damaged skin, wishing naively that she could kiss it better.

 

He pretends he’s all right. He acts like he doesn’t need her help, but is rather indulging her desire to help (oh, how that is a lie. He needs her more than he can ever tell her). He pretends that his hearts aren’t crying out for her to grant him absolution. He pretends that he doesn’t need this forgiveness, that he didn’t nearly destroy her today.

 

She pretends, with varying degrees of success, that her anger and hatred for Van Statten isn’t radiating from every pore.

 

He pretends that every touch from her-regardless of how her hands are shaking-doesn’t heal him more than any medication ever could. He pretends, for her, to believe (and wants to, with every fiber of his being) that he isn’t a monster.

 

It isn’t until he is in bed, and she is perched by his side, that he apologizes. He didn’t have the strength before, as her fingers trailed over his wounds so gently. He hates himself for it, for letting her help him before he tells her he’s sorry. She looks at him, eyes softer than he deserves, and tucks the blanket more securely around him before moving to entwine their fingers.

 

“It’s not your fault.” Her words are a balm to his battered soul, the sweet caress of her voice enough to bring him more peace than he’s felt in a long time. 

 

“You almost died. More than once.” His voice is so bitter, and the last syllables waver. She bites her lip and he hates himself just a little bit more. “Because of me.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” she repeats, with more steel in her voice. He loves her for it. For everything. Her hand is still wrapped in his, small and warm and anchoring him. She really believes what she’s saying, and for a moment, he wants to pretend that he does too. Wants to pretend that she’s never going to leave him, that he’s earned her presence in his life.

 

In the end, he doesn’t have to ask her to stay, doesn’t even have to suggest it. Because Rose Tyler is perfect and wonderful and everything he doesn’t deserve, and without warning she crawls under the covers next to him. And for some reason that he cannot comprehend, she wraps herself around him, head pillowed on his chest, and sighs contentedly. She falls asleep almost instantly  and he holds her close, almost desperately, her warmth and light suffusing him in way that he’s just now realizing he depends on.

 

She pretends she’s asleep when she feels the Doctor kiss the top of her head, his breath tickling her hair as he whispers goodnight. Pretends that her heart doesn’t skip a beat when he wraps an arm securely around her waist, anchoring her to his side. She pretends she’s all right, hasn’t been rattled by the day’s events as well. 

 

Neither one of them are okay. Not really. But as they lay in the dark, clinging to one another (and pretending they aren’t), they realize that maybe they don’t have to be okay. They just need each other.

 

(And for a while, they  _ are  _ okay.)


End file.
